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diminished

She fell fast to powdered somber.
arms of octi whipped in whirl,
about her cast of feature.
Take a touch,
the pulse adrift.
The clouded flower of her eye
at risk to die.
time doth pass
her force becomes a mythical lull.
luster lacked.
The reapers tackle.
life's dance at an end.
Death of a friend.

any suggestions to compleate this?

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Comments


  • Junebug-
    April 9

    Edit | Reply
    I agree it doen not feel done either. I find sometimes reading them out loud helps. It sometimes takes on words without premission. I do like this piece though. I think it is great, just not finished.


  • epitaph-macabre
    June 5, 2008
    Edit | Reply

    suggestions??? anyone

    suggestions .. it doesnt feel done.